September 2013

NERDS' Ramble No. 286.  23^rd Sept. 2013.

Those Present – Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Paco.

The Very Close Thing Ramble.

It was September, the weather was still warm and sunny, and the emergent NERDS had put themselves once again in the hands of their amazingly competent routemaster, Sandyballs. The latter had never got us lost, never got into a strop when things had faltered, and, more importantly, had always managed to deliver us to watering holes and lunch places intact. Would he be able to maintain the high standards which he had consistently set for himself and on which his reputation hung? Vamos a ver!

Matt was still chatting up rich widows on cruises, hoping to increase his already swollen bank accounts, so we had no real knowledge of his whereabouts – not even a postcard – mean bastard!  However Paco had managed to tear himself away from Meryl  Lynch's by saying he was just slipping out to buy some shares, and might just take over Barclays or somewhere while he was out. So the NERDS this day were four – enough of us to get into trouble.

Most of us met up on the train where Paco introduced us to his new best friend, someone called Shuna (?) who was not to be allowed on the ramble because of NERDS' Rules Nos. 1 and 2.

( and because she unfortunately qualified on both counts). Having got over these tricky hurdles, we alighted at Lewes where Sandyballs met us and said he had a magnificent ramble organised and that nothing could possibly go wrong to spoil our day.

It all started off very well with a snifter (well, two actually) taken in The Brewers Arms, a pub famous for being the only one in the world to open its doors to NERDS at 10. 00hrs in the morning.

Sandyballs informed us that the previous evening he had finally paid off the mortgage on his ranch style, split level etc. etc. residence, but had decided to carry on working at the other airport. This was because he had recently set his sights on buying Richard Branson's carribean island off him, and even with no more mortgage to pay, he felt that every little bit extra he earned might one day put him up in the Dumpling Dwyer class of money-grabbing misers and finally get him within the pages of the Sunday Times Rich List. Sympathy from the NERDS was scant – all they were bothered about was would he buy us a free drink. (In the cause of natural justice it has to be said that he did – but not here.)

Anyway, our skillful routemaster finally broke off from his financial musings and led his underlings up past the old Meridian pub (sadly no longer there), up past Lewes prison and further up towards the infinite upness of the Downs.

“Moan, moan, moan,” went the NERDS; “ Why are we being taken in the direction of up when all the eaty and drinky bits of Lewes are situated nearer sea level. But Sandyballs, ever resourceful , had a plan.

As previously mentioned , it was a pleasant, sunny day.

We passed over the old race course and watched the rich people having their horses exercised by some minions at the stables there. We chatted to a couple of cyclists who claimed to have seen Wiggo on his last mad dash to win the recent Tour de Britain, and then got a bit lost (but not too much) and were led by Sandyballs downwards (thank God!)  to another pub he knew that would serve us a magnificent lunch as a finale to what he considered to be the most fantastic ramble he had ever taken us on.

“Good job,” thought the NERDS, “we're all starving after this unaccustomed climbing exercise and we're really looking forward to lunch.” So, down, down we proceeded on a sun- lit, dappled path where Lafayette suddenly smelled great danger. Spotting  a vicious looking creature he had seen lurking on a low hanging branch ready to bite unwary NERDS and being the hero that he is (remember the shipwrecks and other er... stuff)  Lafayette saw immediately the danger that his companions were in from a huge stripy anaconda that also wanted its lunch and was ready to squeeze the life from any one of them. Boldly Lafayette threw himself on the deadly serpent and after a herculean struggle managed to subdue it and thereby save the day.

What a hero! What  strength! and what consideration for his fellow NERDS, to have saved their lives in this unselfish way!

Buoyed up by the cheers of the other NERDS Lafayette bowed modestly and said he hoped that Sandyballs would treat him to a special lunch to reward him for his sterling efforts. A grateful Sandyballs promised him the most magnificent meal that his wallet could provide ( a very big meal, then), just as soon as they reached the Chalkpit Pub where he planned to surprise us with its culinary delights.

Eager and hungry, the NERDS staggered down the main road, round the bend and saw the welcome sight of a Sussex pub just ahead. Goodness, we were all tired and done-in now. Oh, how happy we were to see somewhere to put up our feet and rest awhile and partake of the sumptuous meal promised by our leader.

There was just one slight snag..... the pub was closed. A notice over the drive-way bore witness to this miserable fact and it was plain the NERDS would get no dinner here. Just as we turned to Sandyballs ready to mildly criticise him for this minor mishap, our trusty leader spoke “ Don't worry,” he said soothingly, “we can always go to The Blacksmiths Arms which is just round the next corner and but a few brief yards away.”

And so, once again loyally putting our trust in organisational skills of the Routemaster, we followed his lead and dragged our weary bodies back along the main road with the blind faith that this small blip in our happiness would not blight the rest of the day nor our lunch which we were getting more and more ready for.

At last The Blacksmiths Arms hove into view. My God, we were tired! By Jove, we were hungry! But what was this? Instead of sweet cooking smells and the scent of Harvey's beer ready to oil our parched throats, sights and sounds came there none. The Blacksmiths Arms was as dead as not only The Chalkpit but the pub in Pevensey which Froggy had forgotten to check was open last month.

Furious at such a gross disappointment, and starving beyond measure, the NERDS were about to kill Sandyballs in an extremely nasty and violent way, bury him face down on his caribbean island and make Froggy our trusted and capable leader instead because even he had fucked up the lunch pub only once on a ramble.

“ Never mind,” squeaked a severely embarrassed Sand balls, “ I knew this would happen all along so trust me, I've got a plan C.

We can go down into Lewes and go to The Elephant and Castle, that's always open. (I hope).” The rest of the NERDS had had enough. They threw Sandyballs to the ground, bound him with nettle plants and barbed wire, and dragged him behind us, bumpety bump, down the hill towards where the alleged open pub was.

Very, very, very fortunately The Elephant was open, and more importantly still dispensing food and drink so the NERDS forgave Sandyballs, especially after he had bought us all a mortgage drink, and finally got their lunch.

It must be said that The Elephant did a magnificent array of exotic beefburgers (and chips), and a lot of different, interesting beers, so it had been a very close thing but the day was saved from being a total disaster.

“I expect whoever does the write-up will have a lot to talk about.” said Sandyballs innocently, as he was driven off home by his dutiful wife. “Not fucking half,” thought Lafayette to himself; and so, Dear Readers, I swear to you, every word of this account is God's honest truth, (especially the bit about Lafayette being a hero and fighting off the anaconda).

So thanks to all who took part, and also to Him Who dragged Victory so very nearly out of the Jaws of Defeat.

Paco's sister seems to think we can go to her house in Spain again next year so a great big NERDS kiss to her.

Adios.

Lafayette.

September 2013 Joining Instructions

This month we walk on MONDAY 23rd. Another mystery ramble!
If NERDS can get the 09.55 from Seaford I will meet you outside Lewes station.
 Paco may not be joining us as he may have onerous duties at Gatwick. Hopefully we can catch Matt between cruises..

Harry (Sandyballs)

At Last - July and August's Ramble

NERDS' Rambles Nos. 284 and 285. July and
August 2013.

10/7/13 – Those Present – Froggy, Lafayette, Sandyballs.

This was a sort of boring ramble because only three NERDS turned up. The three who came walked through Lewes High Street and then ground their way up the hill to the golf club. It was a bright sunny day (ie. hot) so we were knackered by the time we got to the top of the hill. However, from then on we had the beauty of the Downs to contemplate and a long way to go.

Descending into Glynde the NERDS positioned themselves in the back garden of The Trevor.

The new owners of the Trevor had thoughtfully cut down most of the shade giving apple trees in the garden so we sat and fried in the small amount of shade available.

We vaguely wondered why Paco had failed to turn up, and a quick phone call established that he had mis-read the joining instructions (no comment) - first off he thought he should have got the 10 20 train instead of the earlier one; then by the time he had realised his mistake his daughter had walzed off with his car, so disenabling him from joining us for lunch. Only Paco.....

So another NERDS cock-up. To celebrate, the good NERDS ate posset and compote for dessert and went back to Lewes on the train. The bad NERD stayed at home and never knew what he had missed. Those present ate icecreams on the bridge over The Mighty Ouse and popped into The Gardeners to sample Harvey's Wild Hop (beer).

Then they went home – See, told you it was a boring ramble.

20/8/13 – Those present – All the above plus Paco – hooray!

Matt was preparing to go on a cruise so again was not present. F**k only knows how you prepare to go on a cruise..... I mean, once you've shaved off all your body hair, packed your speedos, drenched yourself in cologne, packed the odd wank mag and cleaned your teeth what else is there? Hope he meets someone nasty who'll spend all his money!

So, this was to be another Froggy-organised ramble, so nothing could possibly go wrong.....or could it?

On the train to Lewes Lafayette met up with Les  Autres and then, because he was feeling generous, helped a couple of young French tourists to cross from platform 3 to platform 2 to get their London train. ( Today's first arduous task). He had actually thought of getting them to join the NERDS since numbers seemed to be diminishing, but these two were a bit young and one of them was a (rather pretty) girlie. But a girlie nonetheless.

In to Vic's to meet Sandyballs and to consume cafe cognacs and bacon sandwiches (it was breakfast time, after all).

Then NERDS' cock-up number one – no train to Pevensey and Weston for about an hour. Froggy's timetable had erred greatly and he had chosen a mythical train to get us on our way. No sweat; Lafayette grabbed a railway employee by the throat, shook him soundly and demanded a special train be laid on for the NERDS. Surprisingly, the cowed guard complied ( he knew with whom he was dealing!) and we all got on our special train within minutes.

During the train journey Paco told us he had landed this fabulous job. He had been specially selected after a gruelling selection board to go into the City and work as a planning expert for Merrill Lynch. Apparently he had been chosen for his fantastic strategic abilities in financial management and his proven skills in making early starts and working till he dropped. Sandy balls was dead jealous about this. He had only managed to score some low grade job in a government department flipping passports and being nice to people. How are the mighty fallen. Sandy balls, however, took comfort from the fact that he was at least doing a proper job which was worthwhile, and wasn't in it just for the money as Paco obviously was.

Anyway, back to the ramble. Our special train took us on a very weird route, all round the houses and finally chucked us out at Pevensey which is roughly where Froggy wanted to start off.
The day was bright and sunny (hot again) and we went through the town a bit then turned into some fields which were knee deep in sheep crap.

Froggy said he had meant to come this way specially, as he knew we all liked wading through shit – how considerate.
Then he promised Lafayette piggies......

Now Lafayette likes piggies. He has always had a fondness for them since Rye when he and BT did a piggie call over a field and got half a dozen black and white porkers to come up and have their tums scratched. ( Lafayette puts it down to his mother doing something similar to him when he was in his manger... but perhaps we won't go into that too deeply). So we were led in the direction of  a Piggy Petting farm where Lafayette was told he could indulge his funny hobby.

On arrival Lafayette was horrified to see that it was a pork sausage  petting farm instead; the piggies were allegedly all out the back waiting to be scratched (gently, of course).

Curbing his natural impatience, Lafayete settled for a ginger beer and a lump of (piggy-free) cake.

The day continued to be hot and the NERDS were sweltering and thirsty. Froggy suggested we extend the walk to cover the whole of Kent just in order to get used to all the rambles he planned to organise in his retirement. The NERDS politely declined.

Now to see the piggies in their natural habitat. But, disappointment bitter and acute was in store for Lafayette. He was told the piggies were “off” that day. He scoured the piggy paddocks, looked into all the little corners, gave a lot of piggy calls, stamped his foot in rage a lot but piggies coming forth there were none. Lafayette blamed Froggy for misleading him out of spite, and Sandyballs who he caught guiltily munching a sausage roll and looking smug. Lafayette wept bitter tears and vowed he would never be nice to Froggy in write-ups again.

To compensate Lafayette for this singular failure to produce piggies on demand, Froggy promised him a nice lunch in a special pub he had read about in his rambling guide. Lafayette and the others could hardly wait. They had been in The Royal Oak and Castle before and it had been a nice dinner. Good Old Froggy!

Nobody could believe it! Round the corner we came, all ready for our dinners and the pub sprang into view – only it looked a bit, sort of  er... dead. There were no happy people sitting around quaffing pints and eating lots of yummy food. Froggy began to shit himself. It was dinner time, the NERDS were hungry, nay very hungry and lunch had been promised at this recommended pub. As feared, the pub had stopped trading ages ago. Stupid Froggy! Fancy not checking this out, what a cock-up! (number 3).

The NERDS began looking round for a rope and a suitable tree. Froggy started gibbering with fear promising there would be no more cock-ups, promising he would buy everyone lunch out of his own pocket next week; promising he would even buy Lafayette his own piggy, and promising he would keep it in his own shed, feed it and take it for walks so Lafayette wouldn't have to. The NERDS didn't know whether to eat Froggy or hang him upside down by his bollocks and then eat him. Luckily, in the distance, Paco espied another pub sign which might just save Froggy's bacon (lol).

We sped hopefully to The Smugglers Inn and Froggy was so pleased to find it open and serving food he dived inside and sat sweating with relief at a nearby table. The Smugglers was not, it must be said, in the same class as The Royal Oak and Castle , but it was adequate for NERDS' highly refined tastes. The beer was Shepherd Neame (Ugh! Crap!) so Lafafayette had to drink cider, and the fish pie was almost gone, so Lafayette had to have the last scrapings from the dish, but apart from all this it was OK.....ish.
It was friendly, in a sort of working class way, and the barmaid, Bonney, was persuaded to take our photo.

We talked about going to Spain again and reservations were aired about the musical skills of some among us. But these were minor details for the future.

After lunch Froggy took command again and swore on his chidrens' lives that there would be no more cock-ups. How could anything else go tits up we wondered. A little more rambling was promised, and another pub where we had been before and where we had played darts and drunk good beer (not Shepherd Neame!).
So Froggy led us out into the wilderness of Pevensey (or was it Westham?) . He marched us up the road, hesitated, marched us back again, turned us round , back the first way, no this isn't right, why won't the map take me where it should?

Do you think we've gone a bit wrong here? I'm not sure this is the way, maybe this is the wrong direction, Oh dear, I think we're a bit lost, etc. etc.

The NERDS were by now resigned to massive cock-up number 4.
However we weren't frizzling in the centre of the country side and we knew we weren't actually far from The Smugglers, so we took the bull by the horns (or the Frog by the balls) turned round and walked back into town. Then on a little bit till we reached The Heron, a nice pub which sold Harvey's and wasn't too far from the station we needed to get home in one piece and this side of Whitsun Monday.

In the pub we had a few pints, calmed down (one of us) and gradually chilled out. It was a nice sunny afternoon, the beer was good, we weren't dead and we were going home. What could be better than all that? Eventually we even got the right train for Lewes while Froggy in mitigation for his previous sins told us all about his erotic dreams and the hole he'd made in his mattress to accommodate them (or something).

It had been an interesting ramble up to Froggy's high standards and we thank him for his trouble and for not getting anybody killed. There could perhaps have been a teensy wheensy bit more decisiveness and follow through for some of the details, but it had all worked out well (except for Lafayette's piggies) and we had got home OK, so congratulations to Froggy.

Let's hope some more NERDS show up in the future or else we might have to recruit new members from the c***s. Heaven forbid.

Lafayette.

Alternative Write up for July

Dear Readers,
In the darkness of Lafayette Jonah’s muse-less abandonment; it falls to me to relate the tales of NERDS experiences in their exploration of the Sussex underwood’s.
 Our very own “Grenouille” has taken photographic representations of such events which are hereby displayed!  The progress of these knights throughout the countryside is the “stuff” of legend which has passed into myth and will forever be upheld as an example of chivalry and courage.
The last foray into the unknown underworld of Sussexshire revealed that though they be but three gallants of the road they had set forth in company to right wrongs and save any damsels in distress to which they might come upon, happenstance.
With Sancho Panza stomachs rather than Don Quixote lances they plotted towards the goal; a lunch time gastronomic interlude, of indeterminate quality.  To that end they achieved their objective.
Beyond that interlude the memory becomes hazy with heady wine and such opiates as were available together with Calvados and other spirits of life!
Notwithstanding that, all the protagonists returned safely to the arms of their beloved’s; so to set out again in a future excursion.
BT

Joining Instructions - Second Attempt!

As you know, we had to cancel the ramble on 7/8 because Lafayette was a bit poorly. Hopefully he is back to rude health now. Showing the usual flexibility, the NERDS are going to have a second stab at the same ramble in the same month. Therefore we have identified TUESDAY 20th.

The same arrangements  as before - 09.25 from Seaford. Return ticket to Pevensey & Westham. I will meet you at the Runaway Cafe.

SB

August Ramble Cancellation

It's all gone tits up! Laf's got a bad back. Matt's elsewhere. The Bish has a dying mum-in-law. So it is just Harry, Paco et moi. Even though we've got a quorum of 3 I've decided to pull the plug on the Pevensey walk and do it another time. So, we'll gather around the invalid and plan another date. Just so's you know there'll be no photies as such!

Laters

Phil xx

August 2013 Joining Instructions

This month (August 2013) we ramble on Wednesday 7th.
 Froggy has volunteered to be GUEST Routemaster this time and has suggested we revisit a walk (which I don't think I took part in) to the Pevensey Levels. He suggests we take the 09.25 from Seaford Central and then the 10.23 from Lewes to Pevensey and Westham.
 This gives us ample time for a coffee or whatever at The Runaway Cafe. I will join you there.

I trust Froggy will not assume he is in any way a replacement, temporary or otherwise, as Routemaster of The Nerds!
However, I will allow him to organise the routes for Hadrians Wall - if we ever do that. 14 miles a day- is he having a laugh?

See you at Vic's.

Sandyballs

June 2013 Ramble

NERDS' Ramble No 283 – 5^th June 2013.

Those Present -  Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, Paco, Matt, The Bish.

The Completely New Ramble.

Now that the NERDS had dried out after their hols in Spain (Muchos gracias, Paco y Wendy) and in France (Merci beaucoup B.T. et Hélène) Sandyballs had to think of some ramble in Sussex to keep us amused; and moreover something that wasn't samey, samey. The NERDS must have rambled over most parts of the county and drunk in most pubs therein (just think what we could have done with the money spent on booze if we'd saved it all up!) so what would Sandyballs come up with for today?

We met up with S.B. At Southease station and headed northwards towards the new bridge (which had been built at least two years previously – don't time fly?) Froggy took a lot of photos on the bridge in the nice sunny sun and we then proceeded further into the village itself for more photos of thatched cottages, the old church and more chocolate boxes. Southease would really be a delightful place to live except that Lafayette would miss the Co-op near his own house, not to mention the gentle traffic of the Newhaven ring-road and the quiet but beautiful early morning songs of the delightful seagulls which kept his rubbish down and spread a delightful patina on his car every morning.

Arriving at the main Lewes/ Newhaven road S.B. pondered a bit then set off through the Downs along the road in the direction of a farm and thence towards Telscombe. During this pleasant rambling interlude Froggy talked about his desire to join the c***s

and how he hoped to make some new friends there to guide him on through his retirement. Immediately the NERDS began discussing what sort of transfer fee they might get, and concluded gloomily that they might actually have to bribe the members of this other organisation to take the musical genius off their hands. Still, you never know, we might get some money for him if we make out he's actually as good as Eric Clapton, (even if he's not).

Eventually we arrived in Telscombe, another small Sussex village shimmering under the sun and where nothing much happens because a) there's no pub, b) there's just a youth hostel (who does this any more?) and c) everyone, judging from their houses, is incredibly rich and doesn't need to do anything apart from harrumph about the youth hostelers. As it happened that day there was a bit of excitement as the recyclers had come round and were taking away all the flint stones out of the garden walls to make into new Sussex villages elsewhere.

Walking up the steep hill out of Telscombe, S.B. Mused that Gat. South had got yet another new uniform and that they were currently led by a “No Knickers” girlie CIO. He refused to say who this was to Lafayette who was busy wondering if it was one of the former I.O.s he had spent night shifts grooming with endless bottles of wine. Lafayette had never got anywhere with this ploy since he had always been inconsiderately interrupted by a flight of Nigerians, and had to break off his lessons to keep emphasising to the rest of the staff that Nigerians were all knockoffs and needed to be cruelly persecuted. Don't just roll the buggers!

However, back to the ramble. The NERDS hacked their way over the unmetalled roads of Telscombe down through the back end of Peacehaven towards the A27 where Sandyballs had promised us a dead cheap pub where we were to have lunch. This was The Crown Carvery where the Harveys beer was £2.85p only (!) ---£3.40 in Lewes---- although we suspected it was not exactly sparkling fresh out of the brewery here. The Crown Carvery was one of those “Eat all you can for £4.60” jobs and the NERDS thought it was ideal for the likes of us. Unfortunately so did most of the population of Peacehaven who we noticed were all about eighty years old and dead fat. They looked as if The Crown Carvery had been their only source of sustenance for many years but they were obviously all thriving on the diet and resembled a  load of old turkeys being fattened up by someone for Christmas. (This is what happens if you feed up Old Trouts to excess - they turn into turkeys).

So great was our greed that even the Bish overstuffed himself and couldn't finish, and Paco resorted to giving away most of his giant Yorkshire pudding and wondering why his eyes were always bigger than his stomach. Matt and Lafayette, however, seemed to be vying to see who could eat the most main course and scoff a pudding as well. Result was a draw but Matt said he'd won because he was wearing his sexy Tilley hat festooned with a new Sarth Efrican badge from his latest cruise. Discussion ranged about how Dave Boy Jarman was the c***'s quasi because he did a lot of fetching and carrying (for whom, pray?); and how women with huge tits ought to be charged more for cabin baggage on Easy jet flights because they weighed more. You can see how the cheap Harvey's was now kicking in!

We decided The Peacehaven Carvery was a “NERDS Approved” place despite it being full of fat, old Trouts/Turkeys who at least had the consideration to disappear back home as soon as it was about two o'clock. Meanwhile Matt was wondering why when pubic hair was shaved it never grew back so lush and silky (Yeah, well......) and Sandyballs couldn't make his mind up whether he wanted a deathbed conversation, conversion, or repentance, although by this time he couldn't remember why he should need to do this anyway.

Paco was feeling a bit over-fed by this time so decided to get the bus back home. The rest of us, drunk on bottomless icecream and the sunny weather decided to ramble back over the cliffs to lovely Newhaven with its Co-op, seagulls and ring road – the epitome of South Coast civilisation. It was a very pleasant and breezy walk back enlivened by Lafayette taking everyone on a shortcut through Newhaven Heights immobile-home centre, and meeting some oldies all dressed in white bowling on a green. They invited the NERDS to join in with them but S.B. told them we only played for money and the Bish said we didn't play games with women because they were treacherous and cheated a lot.

So, a completely new ramble for which Sandyballs is to be congratulated. A new eating establishment which should definitely be patronised again, and a  pleasant sunny day for it all. Lafayette was so intrigued by The Old Trout Bowlers in White that he has since joined the Newhaven Indoor Bowls Rambling and Drinking Society because anything's better than going to the c***s and talking about pensions and having the wrong quasi serve you.

God rest Lafayette's old quasi; it's been five years since he left the NERDS and Laf. still hasn't got a suitable replacement.

Lafayette.

June Joining Instructions

This month we ramble on Wednesday 5th. Sorry about the lack of notice but after 25 years you must be used to it......

This month we are going to a MYSTERY DESTINATION. Details are as follows: Seaford types take the 10.25 (few minutes later for NHN types) to Southease. You will only need a single ticket but if a return is only a little more, maybe get a return? You will be likely heading home by bus (hooray!) anyway. I will meet you at Southease station on a service from Lewes which should arrive 2 minutes earlier. Mobiles on incase of the whole thing becoming a shambles -as if ....!

Weather should be good so you may want to think about sun cream, water and hats. Mostly tarmac walking with a bit of off-road.

See you

SB

25th Anniversery Ramble

NERDS' 25th Anniversary Ramble in Spain.

Tuesday 7th May – Saturday 11th May 2013.

Those Present – El Paco, Sandyballs, Lafayette, Froggy, B.T.

NERDS – The beginning.
Looking back over the years to the early sun-kissed rambles of 1988 it struck Lafayette what a lot of mayhem had passed under the bridge since then.  The whole concept of Newhaven Rambling and Drinking Society had been spawned by three bored Newhaven I.O.s who were fed up of just twiddling their thumbs (and probably other bits) in the office and wanted greater challenges, excitement, glamour, notoriety, promotion (no, not promotion), trips out into the country and lots of booze.  Such was the claim to fame of Sandyballs, Lafayette and Matt ( whose real names shall forever remain a deathly secret so don't even think about trying to find them out).
And so the first ramble took place twenty five years ago somewhere around Firle when someone brought along a bottle of wine and we visited a mars bar shop and bought a dodgy magazine containing young ladies with no clothes on. (How daring we were then!).  Subsequently lots of things happened, some good: Jane's fabulous dinners in Shropshire; finding out that Sandyballs wasn't as incompetent a route-master as we had all suspected; some hilarious:  Froggy mildly protesting in the New Forest about the lack of baked beans; Philby temporarily losing his camera in a stream; some just pleasant: Julie's amazing shoulders; our meeting hundreds of barmaids from all over the world who were made famous by Lafayette and who took photos of us all, etc. etc. etc.

Day 1 - In which the NERDS get to Spain and find that they had gone to the wrong bit.
So after a big fuck-off breakfast at Gatwick Los quattros Nierdos boarded Easy jet to Valencia.

 Since the seats had been pre-ordained by Easy jet we were not sitting together but in separate rows.  Sandyballs found himself next to a divorcee who seemed hellbent on having a good time wherever she was going, and Lafayette had two sixty (odd) ish gilfs next to him who were very friendly and told him their life stories in great detail.  Well done Easy jet.  Hope it's like this on the way back!
There was only one IO at Valencia airport so getting into the country took ages.  Spanish border control must be suffering from cuts too.  Bet they're not as chaotic as our lot; still most of the Spanish youth are now probably in the UK trying to get jobs as matadors and waiters.  Life's tough for un-retired people, no es verdad?
After a lot of trouble finding the Centauro car hire place which was deliberately hidden to confuse would-be customers, we eventually took delivery of a monster Fiat wagon with about nine seats instead of the moderately sized Ford Galaxy we were expecting.

 However after a lot of confused driving involving flyovers and weird directions we were soon en route to Vinaros where we were to meet B.T.  He had taken the opportunity to dump his wife somewhere in a large shopping mall in Gerona and was going to be a real NERD for a few days before taking Froggy and Lafayette back to chez lui for a bit of a dry-out after the present rambles (Ha, ha, fat chance !)
We arrived at Vinaros and found B.T. lurking round the corner having just arrived.  The Spanish villa seemed very pleasant; it had been lent to Paco by his unsuspecting sister, Wendy, and had most amenities for eating and drinking although no swimming pool (probably not a good idea with NERDS around).

 So, after dividing up the rooms and making sure Froggy got one away from everyone else (snoring) we ran downstairs to try on our new celebratory teeshirts which Sandyballs had commissioned from his man in Newhaven.  'Tis true we all looked like employees at a garden centre (green teeshirts) and they were very smart except that according to the message on the back we were all to be spending the next few days at “Villa Rosa” instead of where we were now, which was “Vinaros”.  Paco was a bit pissed off at this especially in view of all the trouble he'd gone to searching maps to find the ultimate location for this important NERDS' celebration.  Good job he hadn't got paid by Hello magazine to take photos of the next four days including the reverse of the teeshirts.
Now, because of security concerns in Spain where everyone who is not British is either a psychopath or a serial killer, we were required to unlock the doors of the villa and scrupulously lock them up again as we left said premises.  This led to a lot of fun.  On this our first day Paco had to decide which keys fitted which windows and doors, and then work out why they wouldn't turn.  Then, when everything had been opened so that we could see the sun and breathe, it all had to be locked up again to prevent the zombies getting in while we were out.
Anyway, when we had disentangled ourselves from the villa we headed down the road for the nearest watering hole.  This turned out to be a place called El Garrofer (The Strangler) where we took up residence outside at the same table each day in the pleasant Spanish sun.

 This place was cheapy cheap and we got through a lot of cañas and practised our Spanish, or at least Paco's Spanish on local bargirl, Catherine, from Roumania, before visiting the supermarket next door and practising Paco's Spanish on what'ser name (from Moldova).  Such an international town is Villa Rosa that it obviously does its bar/restaurant recruitment from somewhere in the Balkans.
Later that afternoon Paco asked Lafayette to accompany him as interpreter round to Les and Doris, an elderly couple who lived nearby and who only spoke Black Country.  This is a very important means of communication for which Lafayette had unfortunately not been able to get a Home Office language allowance, but in which he had been, nevertheless, fluent from birth.  “ Worro Ar Doris, kid, Ow yo gooin? Ay this Spanish weather bostin'?” said Lafayette, trying to be posh for once.
“Worro, Lafayette,” replied Doris “ It's a lung waiy frum Worsle ove rear, worra yao dooin amung orl these forrin buggers?”  And so they got on quite well especially when Les gave Lafayette a copy of his precious Black Country newspaper called The Bugle, and said he could keep it to do the crossword.  Bit of a challenge there for Laf who over the last few years hadn't been entirely keeping up with all the linguistic neologisms of his home town (Worsle near Berrminghum).
And so after a cheap but delicious meal down at El Strangler the NERDS spent the evening drinking,

listening to blues music and trying to help Lafayette with his crossword.  Paco who had recently taken up smoking cigars again had to be put out, rolled up in a coverlet and put to sleep on the sofa.  Things had started off OK, the NERDS had settled in fine and Lafayette had made some new friends.

Day 2 – In which The NERDS weather a few crises and venture out into the hinterland.
Up got the NERDS, went through the ceremony of taking their Old Age pills then Sandyballs and Lafayette went down to the supermarket to get some breakfast stuff but it was closed.  Glumly returning empty-handed they were greeted by Paco who said he had lost his passport.  Not much of a crisis as it was found shortly after hidden amongst a pile of cigar butts.  However, Sandyballs then screamed out that he could not find his posh mobile phone.  This was a new one that SB hardly ever let out of his sight (literally) and which had gradually taken over his whole existence enabling him to access all sorts of useless rubbish such as what the present weather was like (why not look out of the window?) or what time it was (don't you wear a watch?).  Anyway, this precious object was missing, presumed stolen by minxy, smooth tongued Roumanians and S.B. was incandescent with stress.
A vast search was initiated to no avail; S.B. rang his bleary eyed wife in England and got her to cancel his contract and to alert Interpol about thieving Romany gypsy groups.  The wheels of bureaucracy were fired up and the police forces of a dozen countries were soon scampering around after what had been emphasised was a piece of equipment more precious than the British crown jewels.  Just then S. B. discovered his phone where he had put it next to him in the bog as he settled down to have a crap and to check up on his stocks and shares.  S.B.( Stupid Bastard) was obviously castigated by everyone and made to chain his phone to his wrist to avoid a repetition of any similar international incidents.
Now that everyone had finally got their gear together, Paco in his role of Routemaster, proposed a trip into town. One of the objectives was to drive around to find a Villa Rosa to go with the inscription on the teeshirts and show that we had clearly meant to go to this place after all.  Sadly, no Villa Rosa was found so Paco drove us down to the sea front at Vinaros where we had aperitifs in the somewhat indifferent cloudy (but warm) weather.

Feeling a little hungry we scoured the streets for a suitable lunching place and hit upon the Cha Cisco (ie. Chez Paco, geddit?) where we sat outside and fell into the clutches of Natalia who was from The Ukraine.

 A somewhat statuesque woman, Natalia's Spanish was better than ours (and certainly better than Froggy's whose idea of speaking Spanish was to scream loudly and insert the word “burro” into each sentence.)  Natalia plied us with paella and other goodies until we were well stuffed.  It must be said this was a brilliant NERDS' approved restaurant; the wine itself was amazingly cheap and really tasty so we were starting to like our trip to Spain even if we had ended up in the wrong place.
Thereafter, we drifted back home carefully hoping to avoid any more Roumanian burglars who enter small lavatory windows and snatch expensive phones.

Day 3 – In which the NERDS actually go rambling and Froggy shows off his musical skills at a barbecue.
Today began with S.B. (and we all know now what that means) saying he'd lost his wallet. Wearily we rang up all the relevant authorities again (wife, Interpol, Roumanian Embassy) but no joy.  Then S.B. told us he'd not only found the wallet but had discovered that he had two pairs of sandals at home but had brought one from each to make up a disparate holiday pair.  Even the rest of the NERDS were by now falling into despair so Paco Routemaster decided to cheer us up with a ramble over the cliffs and along the beach.

The route was pleasant and picturesque and the weather was warm but still cloudy. We were all in sandals and so were constantly getting sand and stuff under our soles and between our toes.

 Paco had taken the precaution of wearing his heavy, every day shoes and thereby avoided being bitten by octopusses and cockroaches.
After the usual lunch of beer and boccadillos somewhere in Vinaros we realised that we had walked a long way in and out of lots of little coves but that going back would be a lot easier because it would be shorter and more direct. We had, however failed to notice two things. Firstly the return route was very concrety and secondly the sun had come out – and this was Spain - like hot.  Wow, what a difficult route back it was; not too far but knackering.  All the little drinking holes along the road seemed to have closed for about a four hour siesta so no sustenance and just NERDS' willpower to keep us going.  Naturally we split into factions.  Those who were really thirsty (and fit) raced back quick and got into El Garrofer, bagged the usual table and started downing beers.  Those of a more indolent nature (and who smoked cigars) ambled back talking about the meaning of life and whether girls in general were either sur douée, mal douée or just a bit sous douée (usually in the teeshirt area).  Of course they might be “storr brűste” if they were Norwegian.
On this occasion we met a new Roumanian (waitress, bargirl, pickpocket? cat burglar?) called Lavinia who was definitely not maldouée or sous douée and with whom Paco fell immediately in love (occupational hazard with NERDS but usually only applied to Philby).  She was very charming but even Paco's attempt to explain the loneliness of command as Routemaster managed to cut no ice and she drifted off to charm some other tourists.  B.T. meanwhile had discovered that Lavinia was indeed a cat burglar because the cats she had burgled were all hanging round our table, ravenous and threatening to seize our phones.

 A few handfuls of chicken from our plates diverted their attention however, and seemed to stop any more criminal intent.
That evening a barbecue was planned and two other ex-pats, Mick and Sue were invited.  S.B. was delegated to be alpha male sausage turner, a rȏle he took to well since it's a bit difficult to lose a whole barbecue when it's on fire and cooking.

 B.T. was a little treasure laying the table and generally being a perfect quasimite.  Lafayette sat around organising things and generally being taken no notice of, and Paco smiled sagely at the folly of it all and lit another cigar. The evening was proceeding well; much meat had been consumed and no-one had died; much beer had been drunk and most of us were still sober-ish; Lafayette had nearly had his foot sliced off by B.T.'s over enthusiastic chair shuffling – but nothing serious; and then there was the musical entertainment........
All of a sudden the dreaded combination of a well pissed Froggy and a very badly strung guitar could be heard tuning up.  Why do people who play guitars have to do so at the top of their voices?  Lafayette had had a college friend from the West country who insisted on yowling Bob Dylan songs to the whole block before Lafayette and a few others broke his guitar and threatened to cut his throat.  But Froggy is a NERD with special needs (the need to play a guitar) and a loony when it comes to modern music, but even he came near that night to having an unsophisticated anal operation.  It's not as though he didn't know the words to his songs (even the ones he'd allegedly written himself), it's just they were so loud and uncoordinated and he was so pissed that something seemed to have got lost in the translation.  The guests were diplomatically brilliant and praised our musical genius....but we NERDS knew better; it was time for a quick smothering and putting to bed.  B.T. took matters into his own hands and gave our Eric Clapton a big sloppy kiss with a lot of horrible tongueing and it seemed to calm him down.  Well, at least it shut him up.  And so ended that day's depravations.

Day 4 – In which The NERDS go into the mountains and Froggy and B.T. do some cooking.
Time for more “rambling” (in a vehicle, of course.) Routemaster Paco decreed we should visit a pretty village called Morella which he had been taken to once as a child and which sold fabulous ice-cream (or something). Childhood memories rarely are as good when re-visited and since Morella was high in the local mountains and probably freezing cold the memory about the ice-cream was probably somewhat suspect.  Nevertheless, we set off with Lafayette at the wheel to enable Paco to concentrate on the navigation.......

Well, first off we had a little difficulty getting on the right road out of Vinaros – all right, truth to tell we got hopelessly lost, going round lots of roundabouts and eventually returning to Vinaros to start again.  Finally we got more or less in the right direction – we knew this because we started going up lots of windy roads, the temperature dropped, we could see snow in the distance and Froggy started groaning and said he felt car-sick.
At Morella we parked high up at the top in the official car park and took in the magnificent views over the mountains on this (freezing cold) but very pleasant, sunny day.

(See the tons of photos taken by Froggy and B.T.)  There didn't seem to be many ice-cream shops open so we put on our scarves and gloves and strolled down into the town.
Morella seemed a very pleasant place and even had a bar we just had to visit called “Prats.”  We never found out why it had such a name; perhaps it was run by a Sen͂or Prat, or maybe it was the local meeting place for the “Pisshead Ramblers and Theosophical Society” (Like NERDS except more intellectual); or maybe it was just a bar for stupid people.

 Whatever the reason for its existence it was in the charge of a nice lady who rustled up beers and boccadillos for us.  Paco told her what a nice bar it was and asked her if she had any of the delicious ice-cream he remembered from his childhood, “ Don't be a complete prat,” she said in Spanish.  “If you think we sit up here all winter making ice-cream for stupid kids, you must want your head looking at, have you not seen how cold it is outside?”  Paco sadly concluded that he must have been mistaken and that his childhood treat had probably taken place on the Costa del Sol instead.
So, after lunch we wandered round the town and Froggy nearly bought a Pinocchio doll which kicked out its legs when you tugged its bollocks (Well you would, wouldn't you? I mean if someone were to do that to you).  We learned that mun͂eca meant doll, tirachina meant catapult (shopping, you see); and Paco informed us that una cochina was a slag, although we Brits call them bicycles ( I suppose everybody goes into the kitchen – how quaint).

Up at the top of Morella there was a Belvedere with, as you would expect, a marvellous view – still sunny and chilly - and there we saw a young Phil Berridge walking up the street with his girlfriend.  The beard, the dark hair, the resemblance was quite remarkable.  Maybe this incarnation of Philby had been mystically drawn to the NERDS because we were all in Spain.  It was a much younger, more innocent Philby, untainted by guile and lust, just a Philby out for a stroll enjoying himself in pleasant company before he fell in with the NERDs, got corrupted and descended into El 'Infierno.
So, no ice-cream, and not a real Philby but Morella turned out to be a very pleasant mountain town with an interesting café and some good shops where Paco could stock up on his new cigar habit.
Lafayette drove back down the windy, windy roads while the rest of the NERDS dozed in the back and we got back to Villa Rosa at about teatime.
That evening we hit the supermarket for extra stuff to turn into a stir-fry by our two skilled chefs, and had a few aperitifs at our usual table at El Garrofer – still cheap with willing waitresses and cuddly cats.  B.T and Froggy knocked up an excellent meal – it's amazing what you can learn on a NERDS' sponsored Open University course, and then we all sat inside with various bottles and watched Have I Got News for You on the telly. Quite a good day really.

Day 5 – Going Our Separate Ways.
Now was the time for B.T. to take Froggy and Lafayette back to the Midi to meet La Belle Hélène and to spend a week climbing Pyrenées and winkling Cathars out of caves (or else slobbing around drinking pastis and shooting air rifles), while Paco was to drive Sandyballs back to Valencia and then brave the merry widows and gilfs on Easy jet. It had been a good trip and Villa Rosa had been a very pleasant part of Spain even though most of our Spanish had been practised on Roumanian girlies.  We must thank Paco for being an innovative Routemaster, organising the whole shebang and taking us to some interesting places.  A big thank you goes to his sister for lending us her gaff and being so trusting.  We really liked your villa and your neighbours were to be praised for their amazing tolerance.  The 25th anniversary had been well celebrated with even a guest appearance from Philby so who knows what will happen at the 30th – even Matt might turn up.
Los Nierdos Para Siempre y Cojones al Orden.
Lafayette.

May Ramble's Joining Information

Dear Specially Selected NERDS,

The t-shirts have arrived! I picked them up today and so, sartorially at least, we are prepared! They look quite smart, I think, and you will be pleased to hear that they are generously cut. They are 'Fruit of the Loom' make and therefore good quality. They should last a good long time - probably a lot longer than the NERD inside it. Can I take this opportunity to remind me that the cost is £18.60 each and I would appreciate reimbursement in either sterling or euros at some stage. I will be dropping the shirts off at Lafayette's place tomorrow. He will take BT's with him to Spain.Paco and Froggy - can you liaise with Laf for collection/ delivery of your shirts?

Paco, I have booked the taxi return from Gatwick - cost of £45 between us.

Don't forget your passport, sun-tan cream and Dr. Schol sandals!

Sandyballs

April 2013 Ramble!

NERDS' Ramble No. 281 - 10th March 2013.


Those Present – Froggy, Paco, Matt, Lafayette, Sandyballs and Bronco.

The Froggy Non-Ramble.

The NERDS were now well into the run-up to Froggy's grand retirement, and as a special honour were allowing him to be in charge of today's ramble. Given Froggy's reputation for getting everything dead well organised we were all eagerly anticipating a long walk, a good meal and lots of drinks. Well, in the end I suppose two out of three might not have been bad going.

The joining instructions for once were unambiguous – all meet at Seaford station. Fine, no problems so far. Froggy led us in the general direction of The Boot which he had thoughtfully ascertained would be open at the present unsociable hour. We decided to drink outside to get away from all the Old Trouts who, even at that early hour, were clogging up the pub to drink tea, or whatever Old Trouts drink in the morning.

Outside all the seats were covered in the previous night's rain, so after Matt had insisted we move tables about three times we settled down with our pints to discuss matters of great import. Sandyballs reported that he had ordered the teeshirts for the 25th celebration ramble and they would cost us each a huge amount for the privilege of owning one.  Moan, moan, still it had to be done. Next, he said Madame The Home Secretary had once again personally invited him to take over the running of Gatwick South Immigration control that summer for the princely sum of £18 per hour. Meanwhile she, as supervising officer, would sit around in the tea room on a salary of about £150 grand with her feet up  drinking wine. Lafayette applauded this and said he thought Madame Home Sec was obviously a decent type of manager who knew how to get the best out of her staff.

Paco who was distraught at the recent death of Baroness Thatcher sobbed that he would be unable to attend her funeral if we all cleared off to Spain in the near future, so Sandyballs said he'd have a private word with Madame Home Sec. and see what he could do about getting him a personal invite. Froggy availed himself of the opportunity given him to speak by the “ talking beer mug” (no vases of nasturtiums this month) and said we all ought to drink up and carry on rambling. No-one took a blind bit of notice  so Froggy went off and got another round in.

While Froggy was away, Matt put on his meany meany gloves ( the ones with no fingers) and said that as Froggy was leaving the office soon he was taking on the responsibilirty of clearing his locker out of old landing cards, HO files, porn mags and superfluous condoms. Lafayette pointed out that any Fray Bentos meat pies should be straightaway returned to Hungerford otherwise Froggy would be summoned back to do the washing up, and Sandyballs said that any mysterious manuscripts entitled “memoirs” should be torn up and fed to the seagulls.

Froggy came back with the pints and said we really did have to ramble after these because we were meeting Bronco in the Laughing Fish for lunch and he'd be getting lonely. However after this one another pint ensued, the morning was turning out well, the sun was out, the seats had dried, the Harveys was good and a dispute arose as to whether Matt and Mike Clarke were one and the same person – like Superman. I mean you never saw them in the same place at the same time, did you? And Matt certainly had dubious ancestry coming from the Isle of Krypton which allegedly  turned you green if you got too close to it.

At last the Routemaster was worn down by NERDS' lethargy and persuaded to allow us to get the bus to Denton rather than ramble through the Newhaven wetlands. Time had since marched on and Malcolm might have bought the pub or at least another flashy 4x4 by the time we got there.

Since it was nearly lunch time and since this had been delayed so much by an inconsiderate Froggy, Sandyballs felt a compelling need to visit the chip shop on Seaford High street where he was a regular customer on rambling days. Then all the Old Git NERDS piled on to the bus leaving Young Git NERD to pay his own bus fare once again and we all rode off to Denton.

I suppose you could say that that day's ramble took place between the bus stop at Denton Corner and The Laughing Fish – all one half a mile of it. Anyway, rounding the corner in sight of the pub we saw Bronco sat outside drinking a coke or something innocuous. We dragged him inside and found that the Australians who had previously run the establishment were no longer there but there was rather a delicious barmaid called Krista who was at our service.

Krista herself might have been worth the journey (she was) but the rest of The Laughing Fish experience was pretty rubbish. The food was substandard and overpriced and the service took far too long. Poor Krista did her best but she seemed to have no help at all and was trying to deal with two groups of hungry people. So, saddened that yet another pub was failing in the NERDS' approved stakes we upped and headed for The Engineer. At least we knew this place would be clean, serve fantastic meals and have a politically correct landlord who would serve us excellent beer (well, at least we felt comfortablre there even if everything else was crap).

As usual the place was full of kids but Froggy managed to get Bob's ear and ascertain that his retirement party would still be on the following week. Mucho cheese and prawns were going to be produced beacause we know that Bob always does an excellent cheese board for occasions like this. I mean, Froggy only gets to retire once – what will he have to talk about after?

And so the latest “ramble” came to an end. We had drunk a lot of Harvey's and walked a bit ; seen a nice barmaid and a crap pub; got Bronco back in the NERDS and confirmed Froggy's party next week. Should all be fun – can't wait.

Lafayette.

April 2013 Joining Instructions

Fellow Nierdos,

This month's ramble will take place on Wednesday 10th April. The plan is that Harry (and Lord Charles)? take the 10:28 /10:38 train from Lewes / Newhaven Town and arrive at Seaford Station at 10:46, where they will be met by the Seaford Contingent. I have Googled all the Seaford pubs' opening times but most of them, including the White Lion seem unwilling to provide suitable libation before 11:30hrs., although the V Bar looks as if it is opened from 08:00hrs and the Old Boot could be opened from 10:00hrs? I'll do some further research before the ramble.

Weather permitting - snort - hilarious! We shall be walking to the Flying Fish, one way or another, and hopefully meeting up with Malcolm for lunch @ 13:00hrs. Trainers should be ok as there shouldn't be any mud.  Apologies for the late joining instructions.

The 8 duty-left Frogster

March 2013 Ramble

NERDS' Ramble No. 280. 20^th March 2013.

Those Present -  Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, Matt, Paco, The Bish.

Jack and Jill Ramble

The NERDS met en masse on the train. Matt reckoned it was a Catholic conclave come to undermine the present smooth running of The Organisation (NERDS) despite most of us protesting we weren't and had never been Catholics. ( Matt always loves a bit of drama and has recently got overheated by the election of a new pope – he really wishes he were a cardinal dressed in a frock and had had a hand in the latest grand conspiracy!). Anyway, Froggy brought us all down to earth with a graphic description of how he had been sweating in the shower (so that's what they call it now) over some “Z” list film star he'd seen on telly that morning.

Sandyballs met us at Lewes with that day's battle plan to hand; we were to go to Hassocks first and then try to get to the Windmills Jack and Jill up a hill (of course) where we were to have lunch.

S.B. was suffering from looking after- the grandchild-and catching-his lurgy-syndrome, while Lafayette had his usual cold, so both were looking forward to some alcohol to take their minds off their woes.

A change of train at Brighton and we were on our way. Froggy sat there and told us he was worried about what he would do after retirement. So were all of us. The idea of Froggy ringing us up in the middle of the night to suggest a supplementary ramble the next day, or “how about we all go down to the pub and listen to my new song and guitar playing,” did not somehow have the allure of some other aspects of NERDS' leisure. We should have to find him some sort of fascinating hobby like er...... cooking or photography or cabaret singing (in the next town) or taking a couple of years off to spend  some solitary him-time in a Scottish castle drafting his next book, whatever........

So we arrived at The Hassocks Hotel (pub) where the lady kindly let us in early since it was not yet opening time by a couple of minutes and where we had the first beer of the day. All clustered round the table as we were, matters of great import were discussed

BUT – new NERDS' rule; you had to have hold of the vase of primroses – the primrose vase talking stick - to have the right to bore the others with your opinions. Matt started off by claiming that the cords were due soon to close their membership list. Froggy nearly upset the primrose vase trying to grab it to say he had nothing against cords, golfers or other persecuted minorities. Matt again took possession of the flower vase and opined that perhaps Froggy should join Nobby's walking group after retirement – The Gay Gordons – but Froggy was not keen (having snaffled back the talking primrose stick vase), and said he would prefer to supplement his pension by singing songs and accompanying himself on his guitar in pubs.

· Opinion was divided about the wisdom of this and it was decided (another new rule) to have a secondary smaller 'interrupter vase' containing fewer flowers and less water so that side comments could be made. This worked quite well for a while until everybody got so drunk they forgot who was supposed to have the 'talking primrose stick thingy' next, Froggy and Matt were lobbing vases at each other and Sandyballs dragged us all outside to walk our opinions off.

The route to Jack  and Jill took us along a very boggy path involving mucho mud. Most NERDS took this in their stride being real hard types, however one of us was under-dressed as usual (just like Paco in the rain before he bought himself a hoody), but yes, you've guessed it, it was Paco once again who had disdained any form of rambling boot, and instead had donned his ballet shoes not thinking he might have to circumnavigate nasty, shitty puddles. So the NERDS waited until he was in up to his armpits and then generously deigned to pull him out before he drowned. Phew, a narrow squeak!

All along a path next to the main railway line we went, straight, straight, straight. Finally we came out by a railway tunnel and zipped into the Jack and Jill pub which was the pre-amble to climbing up to the windmills (ha, ha!). Grouped around a table again, Sandyballs took hold of the flower vase and told us he hadn't done anything about the teeshirts for the Spanish trip. When we had recovered from the startling effect of this non-piece of news Matt suggested we should have “I love the cords” printed on the front of; said garments. Not much chance of that, we thought and turned our attention to what to have for lunch.

Lunch was generally poor, overpriced and disappointing. All except Lafayette felt they had been swindled. Laf’ said his sausages and red cabbage had been excellent, but Sandyballs pointed out that Laf’ would eat anything and anyway had money to burn. The meal was however somewhat enlightened by the ghost of Troy gliding past to the bog, although we all wondered whether ghosts really need to piss in the afterlife. Paco took the talking vase and told us of how he was occasionally overcome by the red mist (Paco??) and we all waited with bated breath to see whether Matt would complain about the dessert (he didn't).

Anyway leaving this NERDS non-approved pub we ventured into the outside world whereupon Sandyballs wanted to take us on a route to visit the two windmills. Good idea, we thought , let's do some real rambling, but when we got round the corner and saw the huge soggy, boggy path leading up the hill we decided (out of consideration for poor Paco, of course) to put off this climbing feat until the weather got better, in the summer, perhaps, or next year, or some time....

On the way back the going was less muddy although tricky. Most of us kept to the path but Froggy decided to take a 'shortcut' through a field where it seemed a little easier on the boots. Sadly the field turned out to be deceptive and further on became a quagmire. Froggy's Gucci loafers took a real hammering while Paco glided over the slightly damp path with little trouble. Just goes to show that a ballet pump on the path is worth a boot in the miry field (or something like that).

Finally we arrived back at The Hassocks Hotel where we tramped all over their nice carpet and lounged around on their comfy sofas clutching pints of Harveys and vases of flowers. It had been a good ramble despite the cold, the mud and the expensive substandard food ,but at least we had climbed up to.....Oh, no, we hadn't actually managed to do that, had we. Never mind next month is Froggy's retirement ramble bash. Expect dancing girls, confetti, loud music and probably the hand of God on His Chosen One too. Can't wait!

Lafayette.

March 2013 Joining Instructions

Dear Fellow Nerds,

This month we tiptoe through the daffodils ( and the snow drifts?) on Wednesday 20th. We are going to the Hassocks/ Clayton area and will be lunching at the up-market Jack and Jill Inn. A ramble we have done before although I myself missed the last one. You may remember there is the odd incline to be negotiated......

So, the usual 09.58/ 10.05 from Seaford/ Newhaven Town. I will join you at Lewes - middle carriage. At Brighton we change to the Hassocks service.

See some of you there on the day

SB

February Ramble 2013

NERDS' Ramble No 279 - 6th Feb 2013

Those Present – Lafayette, Froggy, Matt, Paco.

Posh House ramble 2013

Unfortunately our esteemed leader was not to be with us today – taking Mrs Sandyballs to hospital for health reasons – so he had carefully briefed Lafayette on the long and complicated route and on his responsibilities as that day's routemaster. Lafayette was rather excited, after all we were going to the place where he had been knighted in the hall by King Matt on a previous occasion.

Luckily we were quorate that day so all travelled up to Falmer and set off on a bit of tarmac trying to avoid the kamikaze students who were trying to mow us down on their bikes. The weather had been crap for days and we were heading into a nasty north wind which tested the efficacy of Paco's hoodie to the limit.

Froggy took a few photos after a bit of prompting – just to show what a shitty wintry day it was. Soon, however we had arrived at the warm welcoming Stanmer House where we were to take lunch.

Lafayette led everyone and their pints to a comfy sofa infront of the fire whereupon Matt promptly went and sat on another sofa and accused Laf. of being snobby and not joining him and Froggy.

 Laf said he had no intention of sitting on Matt's lap since his sofa was so small and he preferred to sit with Paco anyway – so quarrel no.1 of the morning. How many more could we kick off? Luckily the London Pride beer was excellent and the more we drank together with the warmth of the fire made us less inclined to fall out.

Grave Matters of State were discussed like the dates of the next two rambles, and Lafayette handed out some catalonian NERDS badges thoughtfully sent over from France by B.T. who seemed to have taken up donkey breeding according to the badges. Froggy suggested we have a pre-Spain meeting so that other important issues could be raised and discussed – such as which particular bit of the garden he would be marginalised to sleep in, and who would be allowed to use the lavatory first in the morning.....

Lunch at Stanmer House is always good – if somewhat expensive, especially if you have three courses and coffee and brandy after.

The service was a bit slow but we realised there were tons of other people lounging around scoffing sandwiches they had presumably ordered before us. Paco told us a story of how his first wife had been attracted to him because she thought he bore a strong resemblance to Mick Jagger ( never considered him in that way somehow and he sings like a drain).

 Matt reckoned that the C***s were going from strength to strength and were pulling in the most charismatic members of the Newhaven retirees....er, yes. Lafayette was still not persuaded to take part; after all, he was both a knight and a Lord so why should he put up with the whinges of peasants about pensions and holidays?

So, after the magnificent meal we all lounged around on the comfy sofas again and Lafayette telephoned Sandyballs to see what he was doing.

 He was missing us dreadfully; a great shedding of tears came through the phone conversation; we promised we'd have a drink in his memory now he'd given up his position of Routemaster. (See how subtlely Lafafayette mounts his coup).

Anyway, having dispensed with Sandyballs the rest of the NERDS were led blinking into the outside world and back through the Stanmer estate to Falmer. We were all so full by this time that nobody even thought of stopping off at say, Chez Bob for a drink so we all cleared off back home.

Thanks go to B.T. For the marvellous donkey badges and we hope that Sandyballs gets over being downgraded in the NERDS hierarchy in due course.

Spain is getting ever nearer!

Lafayette.

Supplementary joining instructions

Froggy says I forgot to state the railway destination for tomorrow's ramble. This is of course Falmer.

The other thing is I cannot make the ramble myself. I will be accompanying Barbara up to a London hospital for a medical procedure. She managed to get a cancellation appointment at Kings College and hopefully this will lead to a successful diagnosis.

Lafayette will be your guest routemaster - not that you really need one! In my absence can you try and sort out dates for the March and April rambles? I also intended to talk about the wording on the  25th Anniversary T-shirts, so can you give this some thought?

Have a good day and I will see you soon.